Such Downright Domesticity
by rebecca-in-blue
Summary: "I was thinking of some name like Hannah or Hagar, picking up where your mother left off." One-shots of the brothers, the brides, and their families, post-movie.
1. Adam & Millie

I don't want to be too specific, but let's just say that this is set several years after the movie. I also don't want to brag, but I just can't help mentioning that this is my _100th_ fanfiction! Thanks to Countrylover99 for giving me the nudge that I needed to finally write it. :)

* * *

 _And you never seen, so they tell me_  
 _Such downright domesticity..._

Adam called her _my little bear cub_ , for like a bear cub, she was curious and fearless — _too_ curious for her own good, always poking about where she shouldn't and causing trouble when she didn't mean to.

To Adam, it still felt like only a few days since that spring evening when he'd traveled down from the trapping cabin and first laid eyes on her. The memory was still so fresh in his mind: standing over her crib, stunned and speechless as she grasped his finger in her chubby little fist. But then one day, he blinked, and his tiny baby was gone. Then another day, he turned his back for a moment, and his hand-holding toddler had been replaced by a running girl.

Hannah was always on the run now, it seemed — exploring, doing her chores, playing with her cousins or the farm animals, causing trouble, making messes. "She keeps my hands fuller than any ten children," Millie said at least once a week. Millie usually put Hannah to bed, but Adam had gotten into the habit of checking on her every night as she slept, partly just to get a good look at her. She was growing up so fast, and sleep was practically the only time when she ever held still.

Tonight, she was sleeping soundly, and Adam leaned over her, tucked the blankets tighter around her, and kissed her cheek. Hannah's hair was a blend of Adam's red hair and Millie's blonde — "strawberry blonde," Millie called it — and it seemed to glow in the flickering orange light from the oil lamp on her bedside table.

"You look such an angel when you're sleepin'," Adam whispered, chuckling a bit, "nobody'd ever suspect what a little devil you are when you're awake."

He smoothed her blankets one last time, then crossed her room to check that the shutters on the window were tightly closed. He fussed and fretted like a mother hen over Hannah sometimes. Winter was settling in again, and Adam couldn't fall asleep at night without checking Hannah's shutters first. He would lie awake beside Millie in bed, worrying. What if her shutters were open a crack? What if she caught a chill and fell sick?

But the shutters were shut snugly. Adam turned around from the window and startled, for Hannah was now wide-awake, sitting up in her bed and staring at him. She giggled mischievously at his surprise.

"You called me a _devil_ , Pa," she grinned, as if this were something to be proud of. "Am I really a _devil_?"

"What you are," Adam said sternly, shaking his head, "is a little gal up way past her bedtime. You just close your eyes and go back to sleep right now, Hannah Pontipee." He ought to call her a little fox, instead of a little bear cub, for she could be as sly and sneaky the worst fox. Pretending to be asleep when she was actually awake was her latest trick.

"Tell me a story first," she demanded.

Adam said nothing, only crossed his arms and gave her a reproachful, sideways stare. Hannah knew that look well, for her parents gave it to her quite often. That look meant that she'd done something naughty again. Sometimes she would argue that she hadn't been naughty at all — she'd inherited all of her parents' stubbornness — but tonight, she sighed and remembered her manners.

"I'm sorry. I mean, will you tell me a story, please, Pa?"

Adam never could resist anything that she asked him for, so he sat down on the edge of her bed. "All righty, I'll tell you a story." He pondered for a moment, searching a good story to tell her, and then he spotted the Bible on the shelf near Hannah's bed. Millie had taught her to read from that Bible, just like she said she would on the day she and Adam were married.

"Have I ever told you..." Adam asked slowly, "...the story 'bout how me and your ma first met?"

Hannah shook her head against the pillows.

Adam's eyes twinkled, and he reached out, slid the Bible off the shelf, and flipped it open. "Well, it was just like the story in this here Bible 'bout when Isaac met his wife, Rebekah. Have you read that one?"

Hannah shook her head again, and Adam wasn't surprised. Living in the wilderness was hard work, and children had chores to do, too. There wasn't much free time, and Hannah always wanted to spend her free time playing outside. She was bright as a whip, but her reading and sewing were rather poor for a girl her age. Whenever Millie told her to practice them, she would say, "But those are sit-down things, Ma. I don't _like_ sit-down things."

"You know your name comes from the Bible, right?"

Hannah nodded. "Yours too, Pa."

"That's right. But this story here is 'bout folks named Isaac and Rebekah. See, Isaac wanted to get married, so he sent his friend into town to look for a wife for him, and—"

"Why didn't he go look for a wife himself?" Hannah interrupted.

"Well, Isaac had moved out west, see, and he wanted to have a wife from back in Canaan, his hometown, but he couldn't leave his crops just then. So he sent a friend of his back to Canaan, and his friend said a prayer that he would find the right woman for Isaac to marry. Look, can you read this here?"

He laid the Bible open on the bed between them, and Hannah leaned forward and slowly read the verse that her father was pointing to. "Before he had finished praying, Rebekah came out with her jug on her shoulder."

"See, that's how it was when I met your ma. I'd just swapped my beaver furs, and I come out of the general store and looked up and down the street. I just knew the right woman for me to marry had to be in town somewhere, and I said..." Adam hesitated. He decided to leave out the words _bless your beautiful hide, wherever you may be_. "...well, I said a prayer that I would find her. And do you know what happened?"

"You found Ma!" Hannah exclaimed, all bright eyes and smiles, and Adam to chuckle. She knew exactly how to turn on the charm when she wanted, just like him.

"That's right," he answered. "Before I'd even finished saying the words, I saw your ma."

"Was she carrying a jug on her shoulder too, like Rebekah?"

"No, she was chopping up some wood. She was workin' as a cook in an eating-house back then, and she chopped some wood and went inside to serve up some stew. And I knew from the minute I saw her that she was the gal for me."

"Did Ma know from the minute she saw _you_?"

"Well, you'll have to ask your ma that question, but I reckon she did. You know what she did the first time she ever saw me?" Hannah shook her head, and Adam pointed to the Bible again. "Well, it was a lot like what happened when Rebekah first saw Isaac. She rode out west on a camel — "

"What's a camel, Pa?"

"It's a pack-animal they have in desert places — real stubborn, like a mule. Rebekah rode one out west to where Isaac was homesteading. Look, can you read this here?"

"Rebekah lifted her eyes, and when she saw Isaac, she fell from the camel," Hannah read slowly, then paused and pursed her lips, thinking. "Why did she fall off it?"

"Because she fell in love with Isaac, right from the first minute she saw him. Sometimes people act fools when they fall in love. You'll figure that out when you're older."

"Did Ma act a fool when she saw you?"

"She sure did. She dumped a whole ladle of stew right onto some poor fella's pants."

Hannah's laugh was quickly followed by a yawn. She rubbed her eyes and settled back into her bed; her body was growing tired again, but her mind was still curious. "And then what happened, Pa?" she asked sleepily.

 _We got married that same day, but I never told her I had six brothers,_ Adam thought guiltily. _I brought her out here to the wilderness, expecting her to cook and clean for the whole slummicky lot of us, and I never said one word to her about it._

Adam thought this, but he said only, "I'll tell you the rest another time, you little bear cub. And besides, I reckon you know how the story ends, anyway."

Hannah smiled against her pillow. "I reckon so."

"You warm enough?" he asked, tucking her blankets around her, and she nodded. She was wearing her long winter underwear and the thick wool nightdress that Millie had knitted for her. "All right, then," Adam whispered, kissing her cheek. "Goodnight, Hannah."

"Goodnight, Pa."

Not long ago, Adam would've laughed at any man who fussed over his child as much as he did over Hannah. He would've thought of childcare as "woman's work" and scorned any man who did it. Yet here he was, telling his daughter bedtime stories and tucking her in. He had changed so much from the man he'd once been, and he mused as he shut the door of Hannah's room behind him, that perhaps someday, he would tell her a story about _that_.

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To be continued...? Please review and let me know if you'd like to see more. :)


	2. Benjamin & Dorcas

Thanks so much to everyone who reviewed Chapter 1! I didn't know what the reaction to this story would be, since this is a small fandom that I'd never written for before, and your feedback means a lot.

Although Chapter 1 was set several years later, this chapter takes place just shortly after credits. I was inspired to write it after looking at the movie's full cast list on its IMDb page and noticing a credit for Sheila James Kuehl as "Jenny - Dorcas' Sister." Hope you all enjoy! :)

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 _And let this be, because it's true_  
 _A lesson to the likes of you..._

Benjamin knew that it might be a long while before Dorcas's pa warmed up to him — if ever. But he could accept that. He and Dorcas were finally married, and they were so happy that Benjamin felt almost invincible, like nothing on God's green earth could destroy their happiness. Besides, his five younger brothers were all having the same problem with their fathers-in-law.

He could accept the tension from Mr. Galen, but he was bound and determined to make a good impression on Dorcas's ma and little sister. The day after their wedding, Dorcas's whole family hitched their wagon and rode up from town to visit and meet Benjamin properly. Dorcas was so excited to see them again that her face hurt from smiling; she'd missed her ma and Jenny, her little sister, mightily over the long winter. Benjamin was was so nervous to meet them that he scrubbed and shaved and put on his best clothes, the orange shirt and kakhi britches that he'd worn to the barn-raising last fall.

The Galens pulled up in front of the house, and before their wagon had even come to a full stop, Jenny sprang out like a grasshopper and jumped to the ground. She was all pigtails and freckles and long, gangly legs as she darted straight over to Benjamin, who'd been waiting outside to greet them. She stopped short right in front of him, and with a scowl on her face and one mighty swing of her leg, she kicked a cloud of dust all over Benjamin's best pants.

"That's what I think of _you_ , Benjamin Pontipee!" she shouted, and with that, she ran past him into the house, leaving Benjamin so shocked, that he could only stand there, gaping like a fool.

 **x**

"She was scared of you, that's all," Dorcas told him later that evening.

"Oh, sure," Benjamin grumbled, still brushing the dust off his pants. "Yep, she acted _real_ scared of me, all right."

Dorcas put down her sewing and said sternly, "Ben, imagine you're a ten-year-old gal, going to bed, and suddenly, you hear the window slide open, and your sister screams, and when you light a candle, you see she's disappeared."

Benjamin hung his head, guilt clawing at him again for snatching Dorcas away in the night. He'd seen how angry it had made her, but he'd never considered how much it must've frightened Jenny. Listening to Dorcas's description, he realized it was a terrifying experience for any child, especially a little girl.

"Why, she spent all that long winter building you up as a boogey-man," Dorcas went on. "She was scared of you, and when Jenny's scared of someone, she lashes out at 'em worse than a wet cat. I did the same thing when I was that age, 'cept I was even worse."

Benjamin smirked. Well, he could believe _that_.

 **x**

Dorcas had described Jenny as such a sweet gal, and her shouting and kicking dust on him had taken Benjamin by surprise like a blizzard in July. He would've just gone on standing there, with his mouth hanging open and dust all over his pants, until his brothers saw him and laughed, but he quickly remembered how he'd made his mind up to make a good impression on Dorcas's family. Adam always said that no Pontipee brother had ever made his mind up to do something and not done it, and Benjamin wouldn't be the brother who proved him wrong. He'd swore to win them over, and win them over, he _would_.

In the kitchen, they all ate slices of fresh apple pie that Dorcas and Millie had baked just for their visit. The food did a lot to smooth things over, and so did Benjamin, who served up humble pie and groveled and apologized to Jenny.

"I can't blame you for bein' mad at me," he said to her across Dorcas, who sat between them. "No mam, I can't blame you one bit. I dragged Dorcas all the way up here to the mountains to marry me. 'Course you must hate me for takin' her so far away."

He carried on like that, and Dorcas's ma smiled, clearly pleased to see him swallowing his pride and trying to make amends. Benjamin even thought he saw Mr. Galen's hard eyes soften a bit. But Jenny just scowled and glared at him, still as mad as a hornet, like she'd made up her own mind to _not_ be won over. Even Dorcas's cajolings — "Jenny, you should at least say _how do_ to Benjamin. I just know you'll like him, if you give him a chance." — had no effect on her.

It wasn't until later — while Benjamin and Dorcas were showing her family around the house and farmyard — that Jenny's iciness began to thaw. As they walked into the barn, the brothers' mousing cat, Black Susan, jumped down from the hayloft and came towards them. She had always been ornery, and Benjamin almost shooed her away, but to his surprise, Black Susan rubbed against Jenny's legs and purred.

"Aw, what a sweet kitty," Jenny said, reaching down to pet her. "What's her name, Benjamin?"

Benjamin felt like winter was over and spring had sprung. "Black Susan," he answered, smiling. "She's our mousing cat. She is real sweet, ain't she?" As if this wasn't the same cranky old cat that had hissed and scratched at him a hundred times.

Later, as the Galens saying goodbye, promising to come back to visit again soon, Benjamin noticed that Jenny was holding Black Susan in her arms. He'd never even been able to pick up that cat, but she just switched her tail and closed her eyes contentedly, and Jenny climbed right up into the wagon with her. There was a sly little smile on her face, just like Dorcas's.

"Uh, hold on just a minute now," Benjamin said uncertainly, approaching the wagon. "Say, Jenny, you can't take Black Susan. We need her for catching m—"

"Ha!" Jenny laughed triumphantly, as if she'd been waiting for this. "You took my sister away with you, so I'm takin' your cat away with _me_! Now we're even! How do you like _that_ , Benjamin Pontipee!"

Benjamin looked around for help, but Mr. and Mrs. Galen were turned away, facing towards the horses — Benjamin suspected that they were ignoring Jenny on purpose — and Dorcas was trying not to laugh at her sister's trick. Benjamin was stuck standing there again, gaping as the Galens' wagon rode away with Black Susan, until at last, he sighed, resigned. If losing Black Susan was what it took to win over Jenny, maybe it was worth it. Benjamin turned away to find Adam, to tell him that they needed a new mousing cat for the barn.


	3. Frank & Sarah

Frank and Sarah's chapter almost turned out to be more about Adam and Millie, but I hope you will all enjoy it. Again, many thanks to everyone who's reviewed.

* * *

 _I wish it were me._  
 _I've always wanted to be a June bride,_  
 _and have a baby right off._

"What a night," Adam yawned, as he stepped out of his boots. It was all that he could do not to fall into bed, and he winced to imagine what time it must be. He usually woke up at dawn to get started with the farm chores, but he supposed that after night like this, he deserved to sleep a little late tomorrow.

In the corner of their bedroom, Millie was checking on Hannah, who was fast asleep in her crib. "You got a cousin now, Hannah," she said softly, smoothing her little curl of hair. "Ain't that somethin'?"

Of the six new Pontipee wives, Dorcas, Martha, and Sarah had all conceived right after their June weddings, and through the winter, it had almost been like a race between them, to see which one would have her baby first. But tonight, Sarah had won that race, going into labor early and delivering a healthy baby boy the first week of February. Frank had built a little cabin for himself and Sarah, across the pasture from the main house, and Millie, Liza, and Alice had spent most of the night there, helping birth the new baby, while Frank, Adam, and the other men paced the floor. Dorcas and Martha, too pregnant to waddle across the pasture in the snow, were happy to stay at the main house and baby-sit Hannah. They both wanted to get more experience with babies before their own were born. Ruth had announced just last month that she and Caleb were expecting a baby too, but she wasn't due until the end of the summer.

Millie stretched and yawned too, looking more tired than Adam had ever seen her, but it was a happy sort of tired. It was a relief to everyone that the new baby was so strong and healthy. "Land sakes," Millie said, "I just hope Dorcas and Martha's babies don't decide to get born this late at night... or, I guess I should say, this early in the morning."

"Just think how experienced you'll be at birthin' babies soon," Adam told her as they climbed into bed. "You'll have seen more than any doctor back east."

Millie chuckled a bit. "Why, I guess I will."

Adam was dead-tired, but to his surprise, he didn't fall asleep immediately. He laid in bed, reflecting on everything that had happened tonight. It was strange to think that Frankincense, his most hot-headed little brother, was a father now, too. Adam had never seen Frank and Sarah look so happy as they had tonight. "Isaac Pontipee," Frank kept repeating proudly. "We reckon we'll call him Ike for short. Ain't that a fine name?"

The Pontipees wanted to keep up the alphabetic Bible names, and now that Frank and Sarah had taken _I_ , Dorcas and Martha were each keen to give birth next, to fall on _J_. They were always borrowing Millie's Bible to search for names. "John, Joseph, Judith, Joanna," Dorcas had said just earlier tonight, flipping through its pages. "Hardly seems fair there's so many fine-soundin' J names in the Bible, and hardly any K ones."

Adam yawned again and said to Millie, "Awfully glad Ike was born in such good shape, considerin' he come early and all." It was February, barely eight months after the June weddings, and even backwoodsmen in Oregon Territory knew how long a baby was supposed to take.

Millie was quiet, then said, "Hmmm," in such a serious way that it made Adam curious.

"Say, Millie, what's wrong?"

"It's just... well, Ike was so big - bigger than Hannah was when she was born. And he bellowed like an ox. I'll bet the folks all the way back in town could hear him cryin'."

Adam smiled proudly. Ike was a new generation of Pontipee men. But didn't want to say that and make it seem like Hannah was less important for being a girl, so he simply shrugged and asked, "Well, what of it? Ain't it a good thing?"

Even in the darkness, Adam could see Millie purse her lips. "Well, it's just... I'm just not so sure he _did_ come early."

For a moment, Adam didn't understand. "He had to have come early," he argued. "Only been eight months since - " But then he realized what she meant, and he almost gasped. "You-you don't suppose... Frank and Sarah..."

"Adam, you just don't know what it was like 'round here when you were up at the trappin' cabin," Millie burst out. Adam could tell that she had been wanting to say this for a long time, and he felt guilty. "When the snows melted and spring finally came... they were practically fallin' all over each other. I was about to pop with Hannah myself, and I couldn't keep an eye on all twelve of 'em, but I never thought they... I never imagined Frank and Sarah would..."

"Now, Millie, don't get yourself worked up. You don't know for sure anythin' happened, and even if it did, it weren't your fault."

Millie sighed, conflicted. "I don't know. I just never heard of an early baby born so big."

Adam considered - maybe as the oldest brother, it was his job to say something to Frank about this. But he decided against it right away. What could he say? Even if Frank and Sarah had been baby-making before they were married, _Adam_ was the one who had convinced his brothers to ride into town at night and kidnap their sweethearts. _He_ didn't have room to go preaching at Frank. He decided to fall back on his father's old saying.

"Well, my pa always said it was best to let sleepin' dogs lie."

But Adam knew all too well that Millie could be as stubborn as a mule. "Well, maybe it is," she answered, "but I just can't."

 **x**

The next day, when she and Alice went back to the cabin to check on Sarah and the new baby, Millie brought up the subject as tactfully as she could. "...course, sometimes, babies just come early, and if you promise me that's what happened with Ike, I'll believe you, Sarah, but I..."

But Millie stopped when she saw the expression on Sarah's face. She had thought that her sister-in-law might be angry or insulted, but Sarah was neither. She was sitting up in bed, nursing Isaac, and as Millie talked, a mischievous little smile spread over her face, and her eyes sparkled naughtily. She didn't say anything, but she didn't have to.

"Why, Sarah Pontipee!" Millie exclaimed, gasping. "You ought to be ashamed of yourself."

But Sarah just shrugged. "Oh, what for? Frank and I love each other, and we're married now. What difference does it make?"

This was almost too much for Alice the reverend's daughter. She pressed one hand over her mouth and looked shocked enough to faint.

"Sarah, I defended you," Millie argued. "Back when I was workin' in town, I heard a rumor you let Carl Brown kiss you, and I said, 'Not Sarah, she's a nice gal, and nice gals don't let men kiss them till after they're engaged.'"

Sarah smiled again. "Frank is a better kisser than Carl," she said slyly.

Alice's eyes bulged so wide that Millie thought they might burst right out of her head. "I won't listen to this sinfulness!" she exclaimed, and she turned and ran out of the room.

Sarah watched her go, then turned to face Millie again. She wasn't smiling anymore. "Now, Millie, listen," she said, "Frank and I love each other, and I ain't sorry for what we did. How can I be? If we hadn't done it, we wouldn't have this beautiful baby right now." She paused and smiled down at Isaac, who was now sleeping peacefully in her arms. "But... I am sorry if we disappointed you. It didn't happen under your roof, I swear, if that makes you feel any better."

Millie was silent for a moment, wiping her hands on her apron, even though her hands weren't dirty. "Well, I guess it does," she said at last. "Perhaps it's best we don't talk 'bout this again."

Sarah almost laughed. "Well, I should say not. I thought Alice was like to fall over dead."

 **x**

But Adam was the one who felt like he might fall over dead, when they were eating supper that evening and Millie said to him, "Well, you were right."

Adam stared, his eyes almost as wide as Alice's had been earlier. Part of him was tempted to jump up from the table and holler out to his brothers, "Hey, boys, my wife just admitted I was right about something!" But, with discipline that would've astonished his younger self, he hid his surprise and asked, "Yeah? Right 'bout what?"

"Oh, 'bout Frank and Sarah. You were right, I shoulda just let sleepin' dogs lie."

Adam smirked. He wouldn't mention this to his brothers, but he couldn't resist rubbing it in Millie's face just a little. So he turned to Hannah, who was sitting up in her high chair, feeding herself mashed blueberries - although she was getting as much on her face as in her mouth. "Hear that, Hannah? Your ma just admitted I was right 'bout something," he said with feigned horror. "What is this world comin' to?"


	4. Daniel & Martha

Now that I'm over halfway there, I think there's hope that I might actually write a chapter about each couple (eventually). Once again, many thanks to everyone who's reviewed.

* * *

 _Oh, the hen-folk are hatchin' while their men-folk are scratchin'_  
 _To ensure the survival of each brand-new arrival_

Less than a month after Ike was born, and within just a few days of each other, Dorcas and Martha gave birth to their babies. They were two more boys: John-Benjamin, whom they planned to call Johnny, and Kenan, to be called Kenny. Dorcas had let her little sister help her pick out a name, and Jenny liked Johnny because it sounded like her own name.

After a few weeks, when the babies were old enough to be brought outdoors and their mothers had recovered, the entire family gathered at the main house for supper one evening, to see the three new babies together for the first time.

"Just look at 'em," Daniel said after supper, gazing at the three pink-faced babies sleeping side-by-side in the crib, "they look enough alike to be triplets, don't they?"

The baby boys did favor each other. Their little tufts of hair were all the same dark shade of Pontipee red. Millie had said that they should be called _triplet cousins._

"They'll grow up as good as brothers," Benjamin said, slinging one arm around Daniel's shoulders proudly.

Adam stroked his mustache thoughtfully. "They'll cause a mighty lot of trouble between 'em when they get older, if I don't miss my guess," he put in.

"Aw, they'll turn out all right," Frank said, waving one hand dismissively. "Hannah'll steer 'em straight, just like Millie done with us." He tickled Hannah, whom Adam was holding on his hip, and she laughed and babbled.

Hannah was now ten months old. She could pick things up, pull herself into standing, and crawl so fast that Adam and Millie couldn't turn their backs on her for a second. Soon she would be taking her first steps and saying her first words. She was practically a miniature adult compared to her newborn cousins, and it made Adam's heart ache, in a strange way that he'd never felt before, to see how quickly she was growing up.

Daniel glanced over his shoulder towards the kitchen. The women all happened to be in there now, chatting and dividing up the leftover food from supper. He glanced around at his brothers and motioned for them to come closer. They gathered in a huddle around Daniel, looking curious.

"Say, boys, listen," Daniel said in a low voice. Even Hannah turned her head to stare at him with her big blue eyes, as if she were listening, too. "Martha and I had a fight last night."

Caleb raised his eyebrows. "Yeah? What over?"

"Well, I ain't changed Kenny's diaper, and last night, he needed changin', and Martha said I oughta."

A few of his brothers curled their lips disgustedly. "What?" Frank asked, appalled. "She wanted _you_ to change his _diaper_?"

Adam felt a bit intrigued by their reaction. He knew that he didn't hold as much sway over his brothers as he once did. After all, they each realized now his idea to kidnap their sweethearts and cause an avalanche had been a mighty _bad_ one. But now, he was suddenly curious to find out how much he could still influence them.

"Don't tell me you boys aren't man enough to change a diaper?" he asked, looking around at their disgusted faces. When they didn't answer, he went on sarcastically, "Well yeah, that sounds 'bout right. Sure, it makes a lotta sense that men who been shovelin' cow manure since they were knee-high are scared of changin' one little baby's diaper."

Daniel cocked his head at this, considering. He and his brothers _had_ all shoveled cow manure practically since they could walk; it was part of living on a farm. When Adam put it that way, it _did_ seem a fool thing to not want to change his own son's diaper.

But Benjamin crossed his arms. "Well, I reckon it _do_ make sense," he argued stubbornly. "I ain't expecting Dorcas or any of the other women to go out to the barn and shovel manure, so I don't think they should expect me to change diapers. We do men's work, and they do women's work, simple as that."

Daniel looked from Adam back to Benjamin, nodding in agreement, and Adam thought that maybe he had lost this round. He was prepared to give up, but just then, Gideon spoke up.

"Gee," Gideon said quietly, looking down at the floor, "if Alice had a baby, I reckon I'd be so happy, I wouldn't mind changing diapers one bit."

His brothers immediately grew sober. Of the seven Pontipee wives, Ruth, Liza, and Alice were the only ones who hadn't had babies yet, and Ruth was pregnant, her baby due at the end of the summer, while Liza had said that she wanted to wait a while before starting a family. But Gideon had told Adam once, privately, that he and Alice had been trying for a baby, but they'd been unlucky so far. "Well, sometimes it just takes time," Adam had said, squeezing his youngest brother's shoulder. He hadn't wanted to share something so private, but he'd passed what Gideon had said along to his other brothers, not wanting them to accidentally blurt out something insensitive. The Pontipee brothers had always teased each other about everything under the sun, but Adam wasn't going to have any of them teasing Gideon about this.

Now, seeing the forlorn look on Gideon's face, his brothers' attitudes suddenly shifted. "Say, you're right, Adam," Daniel said. "It don't make no sense to be scared of changin' a diaper." He jutted out his chin challengingly at Benjamin.

Benjamin uncrossed his arms. "Yeah, and who said I was scared?" he asked, defensive. "Why, I reckon _I_ can change diapers better than _you_ can any old day!"

Adam forced himself not to laugh, but he couldn't help smiling as his brothers argued over who could change diapers better. Gideon lifted his gaze and met Adam's eyes behind their backs. He still looked sad, but when he saw Adam's smile, he gave him a tiny smile back.

 **x**

"Gee, Daniel, what made you change your mind?" Martha asked him the next day.

Daniel shrugged and smiled sheepishly. "Well, I reckon it's a fool thing of me to do chores like shovelin' cow manure but not want to change my own boy's diaper," he said, not wanting to tell her that these were Adam's words.

Martha smiled and picked up Kenny, who had begun to fuss. "I think he's wet now," she said brightly, as if this were the best news in the world. "You wanna try changin' him?"

Daniel suddenly felt panicked. He hadn't expected this to happen so soon, and he was half-tempted to turn and flee, but he took a deep breath. _You're his pa, Daniel Pontipee,_ he said to himself. _If you can make a baby, you can sure as heck change a diaper._

"Sure," he said awkwardly, stepping closer to them, and hoping he didn't look as nervous as he felt. "Just... uh... just show me what to do."


	5. Caleb & Ruth

Even though this is a Christmas story, I was determined to get it posted before Hanukkah was over, and since tonight is the last night of Hanukkah for 5778/2017, I just got it up on time! I had to shuffle around the family dynamics and make a few changes to earlier chapters before posting this one. Thanks again to Countrylover99.

My entry for the Christmas challenge at the Plight of the Little-Known Fandom forum.

* * *

 _"I had such dreams about all of 'em livin' around, dozens of children, visitin' back and forth on Christmases and birthdays."_

Winter arrived again on the Pontipee farm, but to Caleb, it was a world away from the long, cold, dark days of last year. That winter had seemed to drag on for years, first from the loneliness of missing Ruth, so far away in town, and then from being banished to the barn and fearing that Ruth would never forgive him for kidnapping her. He remembered spending last Christmas Eve night up in the barn hayloft with his brothers, where the horses snorted and stamped all night right under them, keeping them awake, and everything smelled like manure. He remembered thinking that it was the most miserable Christmas ever – but then, he felt so guilty for kidnapping Ruth that he wondered if maybe he didn't deserve it.

He could never have imagined, then, that only a year later, he and Ruth would be spending Christmas Eve together, here in front of the fireplace in the cozy cabin that they shared with Daniel and Martha. This evening, Daniel and Martha were still on their way back from town, where they'd gone to spend Christmas Eve with Martha's parents, so Caleb and Ruth had the cabin all to themselves. Ruth had decorated the mantle with red candles, evergreen boughs, and sprigs of holly. She'd hung a bit of mistletoe in the door of their bedroom too, and Caleb made sure to kiss her under it at least once a day.

They were all gathering at the main house tomorrow morning, to eat and exchange gifts – and at Alice's insistence, read the Gospel passages about Christ's birth and sing a few Christmas hymns. Life in Oregon Territory was hard and left little room for luxuries, but the Pontipees had drawn names last month for a Christmas gift exchange. Caleb had carved a new boot-jack for Adam, and Ruth had sewn some new aprons for Dorcas.

But tonight, Caleb and Ruth were exchanging gifts just with each other. Caleb was waiting on the bare floor in front of the fireplace when Ruth walked in from their bedroom, carrying a box so big that Caleb wondered where she'd been hiding it. She grinned wide enough to burst as she walked over and sat down beside him.

"I been just dyin' to give this to you for so long," she said excitedly, setting the box in his lap and giving him a kiss on the cheek, "but I made myself wait till tonight. Merry Christmas, Caleb."

Caleb grinned back at her, but his face fell a bit when he opened up the box. He tried to think of some kind way to tell Ruth that she'd made a mistake. She'd given him the wrong gift, for inside was toy for babies – the kind with little wooden beads that were pushed about on twisted wires. Ruth must have bought it to give to Hannah for Christmas, the last time she'd gone to town.

"Well, this is a mighty nice gift," Caleb said slowly, chuckling, "but I'm not sure it's for _me_."

But Ruth just grinned wider, even after Caleb tilted the box to show her that she'd given him the wrong thing. "Oh no, it's for you, all right," she said. "I wanted to surprise you."

Caleb blinked at her, then at the toy. She'd wanted to surprise him with this?

"Oh, for land sakes, Caleb!" Ruth burst out, when he still looked confused. "Do I have to draw you a picture?"

Caleb blinked again, and then, suddenly, he understood. He gasped and laughed and cheered all at once. Ruth laughed too, and he leaned forward and hugged her so hard that they both almost tumbled over. "Oh Ruth, are you really?" he asked in a rush, kissing her. "Are you sure? Say, when's it comin'?"

"Right 'round when we harvest the squash, I reckon," Ruth said, putting one hand to her stomach. Squash was a late summer harvest.

"This is the best Christmas present I ever got." Caleb began babbling away excitedly. "Let's see, Dorcas, Martha, and Sarah are all expectin' now... that'll be I-J-K, so we'll land on L. Say, L's a swell letter, ain't it? There's Levi and Luke and, uh, and other names too, I bet. What do you think of Luke Pontipee, Ruth?"

"Oh, and just what makes you so sure it'll be a boy?" Ruth asked him teasingly, putting her hands on her hips. "I think _Leah_ Pontipee is a right fine name."

Caleb laughed. "'Course it is, and I'll bet if she's a gal, she'll be just as pretty as her ma. Ruth, let's tell everyone the news tomorrow, when we're havin' Christmas."

But Ruth hesitated. "Well... I ain't sure," she said slowly. "I'd rather just keep it between us for a little while. Let's wait till after New Year's."

"All right," Caleb nodded. He did like the idea of him and Ruth having a secret all their own for a while. He tried to imagine his brothers' reactions when he told them the news. "I know, when we do tell everyone, I'll say I knew what you meant by givin' me that baby toy as soon as I opened the box."

Ruth laughed again. "And that reminds me, don't you owe me a present?"

In all the excitement, Caleb almost forgot about his present for Ruth. He had gotten her a rug – a real store-bought rug from Mrs. Bixby's general store in town. Just last week, Ruth had looked over the rag pile and sighed, "I don't know when I'll ever get enough rags to make into a rug," and Caleb had said nothing, but smiled secretly to himself. He couldn't wait to surprise her with it, but now, compared to the news that she'd just given him, a store-bought rug seemed like nothing at all.

"Well, it ain't nothin' so fine as your gift," he admitted, as he pulled the new rug out from where he'd hidden it behind the lean-to.

But Ruth was delighted with the rug. She had them scoot to one side so that she could unroll it in front of the fireplace, and then they both spread out on it. Ruth leaned back against Caleb, settling into his arms, and ran one hand over the thick rug beneath them. It was real upholstery, Mrs. Bixby had said, not hooked or crocheted like most rugs.

"Ooh, I love it, Caleb," Ruth said, sighing happily. "It's so much nicer than just sittin' on the floor."

Caleb smiled and stared into the fire, thinking about how much life could change in a year. Last Christmas, he was a bachelor sleeping in a hayloft with his brothers, and Ruth was still angry at him. This Christmas, he and Ruth were married, and they were sitting here enjoying the fire together. Even though this winter was every bit as cold as last year's, Caleb barely seemed to feel the cold anymore, for now, every time he thought of Ruth, he felt warm – as if it were summer inside him, all year long. And next Christmas, God willing, there would be a baby with them, a little Luke or Leah sleeping in Ruth's arms, or perhaps crying and fussing to be fed, or pushing the beads on the toy that Ruth had bought. Caleb sighed and remembered his mother's old saying.

"God say the same," he whispered.


	6. Ephraim & Liza

I've really enjoyed writing this story, but it was driving me _crazy_ that except for Benjamin and Dorcas, every couple's chapter was about pregnancy/parenting. I wanted to do something different, so for Ephraim and Liza, and in honor of Valentine's Day tomorrow, I wrote a chapter focused just on the two of them. It turned out a bit silly (and skinny), but I hope you'll enjoy it.

* * *

 _"I now pronounce you men and wives."_

The six younger Pontipee brothers were all delighted to finally be married to their sweethearts, but their joy was soon dampened by a new problem. "Can't believe we never gave no thought to where we'd be spendin' our weddin' night," Benjamin muttered to Daniel, embarrassed, and it was true that the six new couples had nowhere to go for privacy. The barn loft was smelly and unromantic, and the big bedroom upstairs held six beds. Ephraim suggested hanging up blankets between the beds, but that would do nothing to block out sound, and his brothers doubted that the girls would agree to it.

There was a brief argument about who should get the main house, the one that their parents had built. "Ma and Pa didn't leave no will or nothin'," Frank told Adam, scowling. "I reckon this house don't automatically belong to you just 'cause you're the eldest."

But Adam was the first of his brothers to have become a father, and he played that card for all it was worth. "Oh sure, cast me and my baby girl out of house and home," he said, picking Hannah up from her crib. "Throw your very own niece out."

So on their wedding day, just a few hours after Reverend Elcott made their marriage pronouncement, the brothers began work on building their own cabins.

Adam joked that nothing had ever made his brothers work so hard as wanting privacy with their new wives. Working together, the seven men built three new cabins over the spring and summer - one for Benjamin and Dorcas, one for Frank and Sarah, and one that Caleb, Ruth, Daniel, and Martha shared. Ephraim, Liza, Gideon, and Alice continued living in the main house with Adam and Millie, but they put up new walls to create more rooms and more privacy.

Liza loved having their own new bedroom, especially when, after the door was fastened in place, Ephraim went behind it and pulled out his pocket knife. He carved _E &L _neatly into the back of the door, added a heart around it, stood back, and said, "There, now it's really our own room." Later Liza sewed a matching sampler, _E &L_ inside a heart, and hung it on the wall beside the door carving. Sometimes in the evenings, she liked to lay a blanket on the floor of their room and eat dinner there. She called it having a picnic, which always made Ephraim laugh, and they ate picnic foods - sandwiches, apples, hard-boiled eggs.

One chilly night in November, as Ephraim came into their room after his evening chores, Liza grinned impishly at him. "Do you know what today is, Ephraim?" she asked him.

Ephraim went over the date in his mind. It wasn't his birthday or hers - Adam had warned him to make sure that he never forgot his wife's birthday, and Liza's was April 9 - and it was barely four months since they were married. He didn't know _what_ was so special about today, but he didn't want to admit it to Liza.

"Well... it ain't our anniversary," Ephraim answered slowly, still racking his brain.

Liza grinned wider and waggled her shoulders. "Oh, it ain't our _wedding_ anniversary," she said. "But it's the anniversary of somethin' else."

Ephraim went over the date again... and then it hit him. It had been just this time of year - early November, when the first dusty-light snows began to fall, just a few weeks after the October barn-raising - when Adam had gotten his bright idea out of Millie's book. Was it possible that it had been only a year ago? It felt so much longer.

"Well, it... it ain't anniversary of the day I kidnapped you, is it?" Ephraim asked hesitantly. He was still ashamed of himself for snatching her away that night, and he wasn't sure that Liza would want to remember it - but she looked happy.

"Sure is! It was this night exactly," Liza said. She put her hands on her hips and went on, playfully scolding him, "And ooh, I could've just _killed_ you that night, Ephraim Pontipee. If I'd had my pa's gun, you and your brothers would all be dead men."

Ephraim laughed at the thought of his sweet Liza shooting a rifle. "Well, I reckon we woulda deserved it, the whole slummicky lot of us," he said. He was quiet for a moment, thinking back to that night for the first time in a long time. "I remember just how it happened. We hitched up the wagon, and Adam drove us into town real quiet-like."

"I think we oughtta do something to mark this day," Liza said. Then she laughed a little. "I know! You oughtta step outside and meow like a cat, tryin' to trick me into comin' out. Alice told me that's what Gideon done with her."

Ephraim smiled mischievously. "Well, I think you oughtta bake a pie, and when you set it on the window to cool, I'll grab you and pull you through. Caleb told me that's what he done with Ruth."

"And she was so mad at him for that, too. That was her best pie, blackberry and peaches - she come up with with it once when she didn't have enough of either - and I asked her later, 'Well, whatever happened to that pie, Ruth?' and she said, 'I plumb don't know!'"

Within a few minutes, they were playing a game, pretending to recreate the kidnapping. Ephraim chased Liza around their room, over their bed, behind the rocking chair, while Liza cried, "Help, help, I'm bein' kidnapped!" - but she was laughing so hard that she could barely say the words. She had such a fun-loving side, and it was one of the things that Ephraim loved about her. He was glad that they both wanted to wait to have a baby; it was good to spend some time just enjoying being married.

Ephraim laughed too and chased Liza harder around the room. They were both having so much fun that they didn't notice when they knocked a vase to the floor, or when they overturned the rocking chair, or when the bedframe creaked and groaned as they tumbled over it. They didn't notice how loudly they were shrieking and laughing.

Neither of them noticed anything, in fact, until the door slammed open. Adam stood there in the doorway, his rifle in one hand, looking alarmed. "What in tarnation is goin' on in here?" he thundered.

His fierce face sobered up Ephraim, but Liza was still helpless with laughter. "Help me, I'm bein' kidnapped," she got out again, gasping. Ephraim chuckled a bit and said sheepishly, "Well, the whole kidnappin' thing was _your_ idea, Adam."

Adam stared at his brother, then at Liza, then shook his head, bewildered. "You two done took leave of your senses, I reckon," he said, shouldering his gun. "Here I was thinkin' a bear must've bust into the house, with all that racket, _and_ you done woke up Hannah."

Only then did Ephraim and Liza notice that from Adam and Millie's bedroom, Hannah was crying. Her niece's cries accomplished what Adam couldn't, and Liza immediately stopped laughing and grew serious. "Gee, I'm sorry, Adam," she apologized. "We didn't mean to make so much racket. We was just..." But she stopped abruptly, afraid that if she tried to explain what they'd been doing, she would start laughing again.

Adam just shook his head again and went back down the hall. "Come next summer," he muttered to himself, "I reckon those two need a cabin of their own."

* * *

There's only one couple left... but I think Gideon and Alice just might get two chapters!


	7. Gideon & Alice

_And though they'll be a-sobbin' for a while,_  
 _we're gonna make them sobbin' women smile._

Hannah paused from her work of beating dust out of the rugs and peered down the dirt road that led from her family's homestead into town. Hannah peered down that road as far as she could see every day, but today, again, she was disappointed. "Ma," she asked, turning to Millie, "when will Uncle Giddy and Aunt Alice come home from town?"

Millie pulled an extra clothespin from her apron and straightened the rug hanging over the clothes-line. "You remember what they said, Hannah," she answered, forcing her voice to be cheerful. "They'll be home in time for your birthday. I want you to mind cleanin' these rugs, now. We still got lots more work to do." Hannah nodded, picked up her broom handle, and went back to her work.

May had arrived on the Pontipee farm, and everyone was busy with spring cleaning. It was so nice to finally be able to go outside again, with birds singing and flowers blooming, that nobody complained about all the work. But this year, springtime didn't carry quite the same cheer, for Gideon and Alice weren't there to share it. They had packed up and left for town, several days before, for an extended stay with Alice's parents. They had promised to be back before Hannah's birthday, but that wasn't until the end of the month.

On May 28, Hannah would be ten years old. So many things had changed in the decade since she had been born and her aunts and uncles had all gotten married. The Pontipee farm now had more crops, more livestock, more cabins, and more children. The family had grown so much that Adam joked that their homestead would soon be as big as the town. Hannah had more cousins than she could count, but her favorite aunt and uncle, Alice and Gideon, were still childless. Ephraim and Liza had moved into their own cabin after their first baby Noah was born, but Alice and Gideon still living in the main house with Adam, Millie, and their children, and it felt lonely without them.

Millie acted cheerful as she went about her spring cleaning chores that day, but an uneasiness was growing in her heart that Gideon and Alice would leave the homestead and move to town permanently. She knew how painful it was for Alice to see her sisters-in-law delivering baby after baby, as if it were as easy as chopping wood. When Martha gave birth to twins two years ago, Hannah had said said to her, very cheerfully, as if she were being quite helpful, "And Aunt Martha, if you don't want two babies at once, you can give one to Aunt Alice." Since she'd married Gideon, poor Alice had had two miscarriages, a stillbirth, and one tiny, doomed baby boy who'd lived for only a few hours and was now buried on the hill overlooking the farm, beside the brothers' parents.

Just a few weeks ago, when Sarah announced that she was pregnant again – Frank and Sarah were on their way to having seven children themselves – Alice had smiled, hugged her, and congratulated her. But Gideon had told Millie that later that same night, he'd found Alice on the hill beside their baby's grave, sobbing. The thought made Millie so heartsick that she'd almost started sobbing herself. It wasn't long after that Gideon and Alice had left for town. It seemed a cruel joke that the farm was blossoming into another beautiful springtime, when in Alice's heart, it was still the dead of winter.

Millie could tell that Adam was worried too, even though he didn't say so. When he came in from plowing the fields to eat lunch, he peered down the road, just as Hannah had done, and asked, "Say, any sign of Giddy and Alice come home yet?"

The next morning, Adam and Millie left Hannah and her little brother Adlai with Benjamin and Dorcas and drove their wagon into town. Hannah begged to come along, but her parents told her no, she had to stay home. They _didn't_ tell her that they didn't want her to come along in case they got the awful news that Gideon and Alice had decided to leave the farm to move into town. Even though they tried to act casual, Millie suspected that Hannah had an inkling of fear, too. She was so sharp that it was hard to put anything past her.

"They might've already bought a house there and everythin'," Millie fretted, as the horses trotted through the little mountain stream on the way into town.

" _Or_ they might already be packin' up to come back home to the farm," Adam argued, but secretly, he was worried, too. He hated the thought of his youngest brother moving away to town, even though the Pontipees had long since shed rid their bad reputation and were now as well-liked as any other family.

It was a Sunday morning, and Adam and Millie arrived at the Elcotts' house right after church... but Gideon and Alice weren't there. "They left the day before yesterday, for Eugene," the reverend told them.

"Eugene?" Adam repeated, confused. He'd heard of Eugene – it was a bigger town, out even further west in Oregon Territory, on a fork in the Willamette River. It was a full day's journey from their town, and neither he nor his brothers had ever traveled so far. "What in tarnation did they go to Eugene for?"

"Well..." the reverend stroked his chin, as if debating whether to share this with them. "We heard 'bout an orphan train that's comin' to the railroad depot there."

"An orphan train?" Adam repeated.

"Oh, I've heard of those," Millie said. "They come out here loaded with orphans from back east, for farm families who need help."

"Ain't it the saddest thing you can imagine?" Mrs. Elcott asked, pressing on hand over her bosom. "Boys and girls bein' given away to strangers like stray animals?"

"You mean... Gideon and Alice are takin' in a child from the orphan train?" Adam asked slowly.

"Well, now, I don't know. They're thinkin' 'bout it, sure, but I don't know they mean to do it just now. Alice said she wanted to go to see the children. Eugene's the last stop on the line, and she worried there might be no children left on the train."

"They said they'd be back by Sunday," Mrs. Elcott said. "Why don't you two stay in town, and they can tell us all 'bout it when they get back."

That Sunday was a long day. Millie passed the afternoon by visiting with her old friends in town – they still talked about her cooking in the boarding-house where she used to work – but Adam felt as impatient as Hannah, constantly peering down the main road of town, looking out for any sign of Gideon and Alice. He was outside on the Elcotts' front stoop, smoking his tobacco pipe, when he finally saw Gideon and Alice approaching in their wagon late that evening. He called to Millie, who hurried outside. When she saw them, she gasped, squeezed her husband's arm, and whispered, "Oh, Adam, look, they done it."

But Adam frowned. "Done what?" he asked, confused.

There was no little boy or girl sitting on the wagon seat with Gideon and Alice. They were alone – but the look on their faces left no doubt in Millie's mind. They were both beaming; Alice looked happier than she had in a very long time. When they stopped in front of the Elcotts' house, Gideon climbed down into the back of the wagon and bent over... and when he stood up, he was holding a little girl, all wrapped up in blankets and fast asleep.

"Well... I'll be," Adam murmured.

Millie hugged Alice tightly. "Oh, Alice, congratulations," she whispered. "I'm so happy for you."

Alice's smile shone brighter than the sun. "Her name is Helen," she whispered, smiling down at the little waif in Gideon's arms, "and she's all ours."

* * *

I know that Gideon and Alice didn't show up until the very end of their chapter... but don't worry, that's why they're getting two. :)


End file.
